Wherever You Are
by likecominghome
Summary: Stiles and Lydia decide to break up because they're going to college on opposite coasts. But that doesn't mean either of them actually wanted to break up.


_This is what's best for both of us. _

Those were the words he'd said to her the night they broke up. At the time, he probably even meant them; at the time, she understood why he said them as well.

They were graduating from high school. They were attending colleges on opposite ends of the country. She'd gotten into Harvard – the school she'd dreamed about going to since was a child. And even though he'd gotten in as well, he didn't want to be that far away from his dad, so he'd decided to go to Stanford.

These schools were the perfect choices for them and they were excited about their futures and talked incessantly about their plans in college until graduation day came and they were hit with harsh reality.

Being on separate coasts was no way to maintain a relationship.

Of course, they'd thought through every option.

This was Stiles she was dealing with: he had a knack for finding the best way out of any tricky situation.

Except for apparently this one.

Because no matter how many variations of visitation plans they came up with, at the end of the day, it didn't seem to be enough. It just wasn't practical or even feasible.

It really was tragic that they hadn't spent more time together. They didn't start dating until the summer before their senior year, because, well, who has time to think about that when there's evil supernatural creatures running around?

At some point, though, Beacon Hills settled into a somewhat normal pace, with the homicide rate dropping to a record low. It was during the days of sitting out in the sun and going to the movies and the beach that Lydia realized she didn't want to kiss Stiles just to stop his panic attacks: she wanted to kiss him all the time.

So they began to see each other exclusively.

She was caught off guard at first. Stiles had always known how he felt about her – since the third grade, she remembered. It was strange and refreshing to be with someone who didn't hide their feelings. And over time, she decided there was no point in denying hers any longer.

A year ago, she probably would have thought telling Stiles she loved him every time they said goodbye was just bizarre, but now, she couldn't imagine not whispering those words to him before she hung up the phone.

Which is why, when he showed up at her house the day before she left for Boston and began pacing in her bedroom, she could feel her heart beginning to break.

They both knew it was coming. All summer, they avoided the subject because they wanted to make their last moments together as memorable as possible, but goodbye was inevitable. So when he finally said the words, she wasn't at all surprised.

But that didn't mean it hurt any less.

"I think we need to break up."

"I know you do," she said quietly, her hands folded in her lap as she sat cross legged on her bed.

He raised one eyebrow and stopped pacing. "You don't?"

She knew they needed to, but that didn't mean she wanted to. She didn't know how to express that without making the situation more difficult, so when she parted her lips to speak, nothing came out.

Sighing, he nodded, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. "Yeah, no, I get it. I'm torn as well."

Torn.

That was the perfect way to describe it.

She felt as though she was being ripped apart. Because on one hand, she and Stiles both deserved to live their college lives to the fullest without constantly having to worry that they were neglecting each other. On the other, neither one of them actually wanted to let go.

"But this is what's best for both of us," he whispered, stepping forward and crouching down in front of her. Reaching out, he gently grabbed one hand from her lap and began to play with her fingers, his eyes focused on their hands as he spoke. "I know it sucks, Lydia. And I wish that there was another way, I really do. But we can't keep pretending that it's not over."

Despite the fact that they were breaking up, she felt oddly comforted by his words.

"I know," she whispered, mesmerized by the way his fingers were moving. "But I don't want to say goodbye just yet."

He nodded slightly, lifting his gaze to meet hers. "Ok."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, their fingers idly playing together, not quite ready to break contact.

"Is your mom taking you to the airport tomorrow?" he finally asked.

She nodded, glancing up to take in the emptiness of her room. All of her clothes, save the ones she planned on wearing the next day, were packed into suitcases that were currently sitting at the bottom of the stairs. Boxes of desk and dorm room accessories were already headed across the country in a moving van. She was hoping that doing it early would make it easier for her to leave.

"Can I come?"

Blinking, she snapped her gaze back to his, her eyes wide. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"No," he admitted, rising so he could take a seat beside her on the bed. "But this way we can put off saying goodbye for one more day."

She inhaled softly and blinked back tears as she nodded, her agreement coming out in a barely audible whisper. "Alright."

They spent the rest of the night reminiscing. He kept her smiling and laughing, something he happened to be incredibly good at, until neither one of them could keep their eyes open any longer. As they lay their heads to sleep, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest and nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck as he always did when they shared a bed.

Closing her eyes, she memorized the feel of his arms and the pace of his heartbeat and the sound of his breathing. If this was to be the last time he held her like this, she was determined to make sure she remembered how it felt for the rest of time.

They kept pretending the entirety of the next morning. He chatted with her mom like he always did, making light conversation as they drove and even as they pulled into the airport parking lot. It wasn't until her suitcases were checked in and it was time to go through security that the mood shifted.

Her mother said goodbye to Stiles and then excused herself to go through security, leaving Lydia to say goodbye in private.

Lydia twisted the rings on her fingers and shifted her weight from foot to foot, unable to come up with the proper words for the situation.

Stiles was the one who finally broke the silence.

"You're gonna be great."

"Yeah?" she tried to smile, her breathing staggered.

He nodded and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "Yeah. And I can't wait to read about you amazing mathematical discoveries in the paper one day."

He was talking like they were never going to see each other again; like this was the last time they were ever going to have a conversation. That couldn't be true, though, because she couldn't imagine a world without Stiles.

But maybe this was his way of coping. Perhaps thinking of infinite distance made everything easier.

"And you have fun, ok?" she replied, playing along for his benefit. "Go to some parties and let your dad eat some junk food and don't worry about him too much."

"Will do," he nodded, rocking forward.

There was another silence. She decided she couldn't prolong this anymore because the longer she stood there, the more she wanted to hold him and never let go.

"I should probably get going," she said quietly.

He blinked rapidly and nodded. She expected him to simply say goodbye, but instead he stepped forward and cupped her face in his palms and kissed her soundly.

She melted into his arms, clutching his t-shirt in her fist and returning the pressure as hard as she could. When they pulled apart, they were both breathing shallowly and unable to tear their gazes away.

He lowered his chin, kissing her sweetly one more time before resting his forehead against hers.

"I'll always love you, you know," he whispered.

"I know," she breathed out. "I'll always love you, too."

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he dropped his hands and took a step backwards. She felt the loss of contact twisting her heart, but she knew this was the only way to ensure she actually got on that plane.

Holding in her tears, she picked her duffel bag off the floor, raised her hand in a wave, and turned towards the security gate. She didn't look back until she was on the other side.

He was still standing there and he smiled reassuringly as he waved, but she could tell his eyes were watery. Taking a deep breath, she took him in for the last time; the boy who had become one of her best friends in the entire world.

The boy she loved.

She managed to hold herself together as she waved goodbye and turned the corner, but as soon as she began her walk towards the gate, the tears began to stream down her face.

She cried at the gate and she cried the entire flight and by the time she stepped off the plane in Boston, she had no more tears left.

So she decided that what she needed was a distraction and she threw herself into her college experience.

She joined clubs and got involved and made friends. She went to parties with her roommate and made out with random guys on the dance floor. She studied hard for all her classes and kept that perfect GPA she had in high school.

She did everything that she and Stiles had been so afraid they would lose out on if they stayed together.

But none of that seemed to matter, because he was still constantly on her mind.

She thought she saw him everywhere: in class, when she was walking to lunch, when she was in the library, on the dance floor at a party. Then she would blink and realize it was all a hallucination. The worst part was that her bubbling excitement and happiness at his presence would shift into regret and disappointment.

Every night, as she lay in bed, she would reach out for her phone and instinctively find his number only to stop herself before she actually made a call.

When winter break rolled around, she was anxious and nervous to be returning to Beacon Hills at the thought of a certain sarcastic brunette with the tendency for spastic movements might be around. However, she discovered from Scott that Stiles and his dad had taken a ski vacation to get away from everything.

So she returned to Boston with dashed hopes and a knot of disappointment in her stomach.

Once again, she threw herself into school, only to return to the same pattern of seeing him when he wasn't there. Deciding she just couldn't take it anymore, she skipped her classes one Friday and took a flight back to California for the weekend.

By the time she realized she had absolutely no idea what she was going to say, it was too late, because she had already knocked on the door of his dorm room.

There was no answer.

Apparently her insufficiently thought out plan wasn't working.

Not knowing where else to go, she sank to the floor and waited.

She must have fallen asleep at some point, because the next thing she knew, she was being shaken awake, a very familiar voice softly saying her name.

"Lydia, Lydia wake up."

Her eyes opened slowly at first, snapping wide when she saw Stiles crouched to her side, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Hey," she said, sitting up straight and mentally cursing because she couldn't remember any of the preparation she'd done before falling asleep.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

She blinked and stared. He looked exactly the same. His hair was a little longer and he was a little tanner, but his eyes still held that same unflinching affection and it made her heart swell.

"I missed you," she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper.

She could tell he wanted to say it back because she knew he had missed her too. She could see it written all over his face; he had never been good at masking his emotions.

But he didn't.

Sighing, he plopped down on the floor and scooted backwards until his back hit the opposite wall. "You flew across the country to tell me that?"

"I did," she replied, horrified by his lack of response. "You could be a little more appreciative."

He winced and briefly shot her an apologetic glance, but didn't actually put it into words. Running a hand through his hair, he shook his head. "Lydia, we can't do this. We can't go down this road."

"Why not?" she shot back.

"Because we'll end up getting back together."

"And?" she prodded.

He gaped at her, his eyes squinting slightly. "And…dammit, Lydia. We both agreed to this."

"I know," she replied quickly, "And looking back, it was probably the stupidest decision we've ever made."

He tilted his head to the side. "Why do you say that?"

"Look, I did everything you wanted me to," she said, "I joined all the clubs and made tons of friends and I'm getting straight As. I'm doing great."

"I'm glad," he lifted the corners of his lips, his expression softening. "You're getting everything you wanted from college, Lydia."

"No," she shook her head, "Because you know what I was thinking about while I was doing all those things? I was thinking about you. No matter what happened, good or bad, my first thought was always 'I want to talk to Stiles'."

He squeezed his eyes closed for a moment and sighed. "It's been the same for me. I've had to stop myself from calling you so many times."

"See?" she smiled, feeling a little lighter at the revelation that she hadn't been the only one tortured by their separation and lack of communication. "We're better together, Stiles."

She could tell he wanted so badly to just give in, but he was resisting.

"It's not that simple," he sighed.

She smiled and shook her head. "But it's not that complicated. Do you love me?"

He blinked as though surprised she would even need to ask that question and nodded. "Of course I do."

Still, the confirmation caused her entire body to warm and her smile to widen. "And I love you. I can't imagine a time when I wouldn't want to be with you. And if I'm spending every waking moment thinking about you anyway, then there's no point in fooling myself into believing that we shouldn't be together."

Breathing in deeply, he nodded slowly and then shot her a small smile. "So you're saying we should give long distance a try?"

Leaning forward, she tilted her head to the side and used one finger to gesture between them. "I'm saying that you and I are so much more than a high school romance that ended because of college. Our story is bigger than that. No matter what happens, we'll always be connected. It doesn't matter if it's now or in a few months or a few years or even a few decades, when everything is said and done, we're going to find our way back to each other."

She wasn't sure where all these words were coming from, but that didn't change the fact that they were entirely true. She and Stiles were destiny: she knew it and he knew it too.

Perhaps the fact that there roles were generally reversed in these situations was a factor in making her speech so emotionally charged. Stiles was usually the one with the grand gestures and dramatic declarations. It was about time she told him how she felt in the same fashion.

He was speechless, a first in the history of their relationship.

Blinking rapidly, he scooted forward, crossing his legs, an action she mimicked so they were sitting in the middle of the hallway with their knees touching. He reached out and grabbed her hands, lacing their fingers together and squeezing.

"I didn't give up on us, Lydia," he said softly, "I just wanted us both to have one experience that was normal."

"Haven't you heard?" she smiled slowly, "Normal is so overrated."

Laughing, he leaned forward and kissed her sweetly. She sighed contently against his lips, reveling in the feeling because it had been much too long since the last time they'd done this.

He was smiling broadly when they pulled apart. "I missed you too."

"I know," she smirked, leaning forward to kiss him again because she couldn't get enough.

They were both smiling as they pushed their lips together, Stiles letting go of her hand to cup her cheeks and her to tug on his hair. She wasn't sure how long they sat in the hallway, kissing and giggling and just genuinely enjoying being together again.

But at some point they figured they should go somewhere more private, so Stiles stood and grabbed his backpack and reached down to take Lydia's duffel bag. She allowed him to dig his key out of his pocket and open his dorm room door, but as soon as they were both inside, the bags were dropped and their arms were around each other.

"You know," he mumbled between kisses as he walked her backwards towards his bed. "At some point, we should probably figure out the logistics of this whole long distance thing."

She rolled her eyes but grinned when the backs of her knees hit the bed and she pulled him down on top of her. "Relax, we have forever to figure it out."


End file.
